


Second Sons

by notkingyet



Category: Henry IV Part 1 - Shakespeare, The Hollow Crown (2012)
Genre: Other, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notkingyet/pseuds/notkingyet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John of Lancaster is determined to solve his elder brother's problems (even if Hal refuses to recognize them as such) and recruits an unlikely ally for his quest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Sons

John pulled his cloak more tightly around himself as he jostled his way past pedestrians down the muddy winter streets of London. The wind picked up the hem of his hood, threatening to expose his face, and he spared a hand to pull it down again. He could not afford to be seen for what he was. Not that any peasant would be likely to recognize the second prince; if the rumors were to be believed, they had hardly recognized the first until he began announcing himself and his lineage everywhere he went. 

Around the second or third time a passerby knocked him aside, John began to regret allowing himself to be talked into a meeting in an Eastcheap alehouse. But where else could they have met? They were just as likely to be overheard at court as in a tavern, and the ears of the common man would be far less concerned with their words than any courtier. 

So really, it was the safest plan, though John's gut still clenched with worry. The heir to the throne had already proved himself a drunken degenerate, and the effect it had on John's father was terrible to see. If the king were to discover both his eldest sons had taken to taverns... John did not like to dwell on the consequences, should his activities be brought to light. And yet, visions of his apoplectic father filled his thoughts. 

He was forced to remove his hood once he reached his destination. Even in the seediest of Eastcheap establishments, few men hid their faces indoors. Besides, his contact needed to recognize him if they were to have their conversation. 

If John had thought the street crowded, the interior of the White Hart made it look nearly abandoned by comparison. Somewhat overwhelmed, John was bumped and pushed along, all the while wondering how on earth his contact would find him in this crush of humanity. 

"My lord of Lancaster," a voice murmured in his ear, combined with a hand gently pressing on his shoulder. 

Speak of the devil... 

John did not turn to see who spoke, but let himself be guided through the inn's common rooms to a less densely-packed chamber, to sit at an abandoned table in its furthest corner. The table's distance from the flickering hearth provided both darkness to shroud their identities and a chill to excuse John's insistence upon wearing his cloak indoors. 

John seated himself with his back to the room, resisting the urge to glance around and check for eavesdroppers. Soon enough, his contact appeared across the table from him; a dark young man, scarcely older than the Prince of Wales, casually leaning back on his stool with a cup of beer in hand. To John's relief, he had foregone his distinctive peach-colored hose. 

"Well met, Poins," said John. 

Poins nodded slightly, but didn't meet his gaze. He drank from his cup, not bothering to offer it to John, or fetch a second. John resolved not to take offense at this. He could hardly hope to pass for a regular customer with a servant at his beck and call. 

Poins was not John's first choice for an alliance. As the second son of a noble house, by all rights Poins should have gone into the military, or the church in a pinch. Instead, he skulked around London lightening the purses of drunks. It was a wonder he hadn't lost a hand already. Or been hanged outright. 

And yet, he remained the least-objectionable of Hal's companions. 

John had first approached Poins at court during one of Hal's rare returns to it. It was difficult to catch him alone, with the way he dogged Hal's heels. At last, one rare afternoon where the sun shone brilliantly, Hal ordered Poins to ready two horses for riding. John caught up with him just outside the royal stables. 

"I've a proposition," he said, "if there is a place where we might meet in private." 

Poins had raised an eyebrow at that, but, having been inured to vague directions by his vocation, did not question the younger prince. He simply named a time, a place, and recommended a certain style of attire. Then he went about his business as though John weren't there. 

The place had, of course, been this inn in the stews. Not much had been accomplished at their first meeting; the two men had spent it feeling each other out, trying to determine if the other was trustworthy. They parted ways, and after a week of silence, it was Poins who sought out John. He bore news of the Prince of Wales' latest exploits... and an idea for how worse scandal might be prevented. 

After that, John fancied he might have found himself an ally, if not a friend. 

So far, their joint efforts had managed to curtail the worst of Hal's behavior. No one had yet been killed or brought forth any serious complaint against him. There was the small matter of the Lord Chief Justice, but John put the blame for that entirely on himself––Poins, not being present on the king's council, could hardly be expected to stop Hal from striking an officer of the law then and there. But Hal remained a wild thing, and as of yet, even John and Poins together could not rein him in. 

Tonight, John hoped a more successful course of action might be drawn up. 

As Poins drank, his eyes scanned the room over John's shoulder. Apparently satisfied by what he saw, he swallowed and turned his attention back to John. 

"My lord," was all he had to say. 

"How fares my brother?" said John. 

"Very well," said Poins, with a smile one might charitably describe as fond. John narrowed his eyes at it. 

"I would disagree," he said. 

Poins cocked his head briefly to one side in an acknowledging nod, and drank again. John took this as a cue to elaborate, and he did, at great length, counting off each and every one of Hal's recent offenses. Individually they were not much (some broken heads, some broken bars, some broken-hearted whores), but as a collective they were cause for concern, at least by John's standards. 

"I can tell you who to fault for all of that," said Poins when John had finished. 

"Sir John Falstaff," said John. 

"The very same," said Poins. 

John let out an impatient huff of breath. "Why must my brother persist in his association with such a disgrace to chivalry?" 

"I know not," said Poins. 

"Thou knowst him best!" John protested. 

"And that means very little," said Poins, "when the rest of the world knows him not at all." 

John squinted skeptically at that, but Poins did not see fit to elaborate. 

"In any case," said John, "we need a plan to separate my brother from Falstaff." 

"Already have one," said Poins. 

John blinked, astonished. The corners of Poins' mouth twitched. 

"Well?!" said John. "What is it?" 

All evidence of the smile Poins had been holding back disappeared entirely. 

"You're not going to like it," he said. 

"How can I hope to judge it if I know not what it is?" 

Poins gave him a considering look. 

"A robbery," he said at last, and took a swallow of his beer, handily excusing himself from having to elaborate. 

"...What," said John. 

"I said 'a robbery'," Poins repeated once his throat was clear. "And quite plainly, too." 

"How is _that_ going to help!?" said John, his voice becoming slightly louder than was prudent. Poins communicated this with a raised brow, then cast a quick glance over the rest of the room. Sparing another warning look at the young prince, he detailed his plan in a tone almost too hushed for John to hear. 

"Very soon," he said, "there will be an unguarded group of travelers carrying a significant sum on the road to London. I shall speak of this to the prince, and to Falstaff, and suggest that we and a few other friends take the sum for ourselves." 

"The plot," said John slowly, hardly believing his ears, "is to have my brother commit highway robbery?" 

"I've not finished," said Poins. "Once Falstaff is informed and has agreed to it, I shall take the prince aside and relay to him my true intentions. The prince and myself will not rob the travelers. Instead, we shall lie in wait, let Falstaff commit the offense, then set upon him and take the sum for ourselves." 

"To what end?" said John. 

"When confronted by our disguised force," said Poins, "Falstaff cannot help but behave true to his nature. He will be proved a coward, unable to withstand even the smallest adversity, and therefore an unfit companion for the prince." 

Poins smirked. Evidently he thought his plan quite clever. John remained unconvinced. 

"It seems a lot of trouble," said John, "to arrange something so complex to prove a point so simple." 

"If the point could be simply proved, your brother would understand it by now," said Poins. "Considering his continued preference for Falstaff's company, it would seem the obvious has slipped him by, and so we must demonstrate it, openly and loudly. Perhaps even repeatedly. A robbery is not the prettiest method, I admit, but what else can I do? Would you prefer I arrange a battle to test Falstaff's mettle? 'Twould be easily done, though the stakes are a bit high for my taste. I'd rather not risk harm to your brother." 

"And if he is caught during the course of this theft?" said John. "Will no harm come to him then?" 

"Hardly," scoffed Poins. "He and I will be accosting Falstaff, not the innocent travelers, remember? In the unlikely event that we are brought before the Sheriff we need only say we were retrieving the stolen goods to return to their rightful owners. Your brother will come out of it looking positively heroic." 

"But why must he rob anyone?" said John. "Why not simply convince Falstaff to commit the crime, then turn him over to the Sheriff for it? He can hardly remain my brother's friend if he is arrested." 

"The goal is not Falstaff's arrest," said Poins. "If it were, you could easily have him put away tonight on charges of sodomy and corrupting the prince." 

" _Sodomy?_ " said John. 

"But you have not done so," Poins continued as though John had made no incredulous exclamation. "And why not? Because we both know that if Falstaff finds his way into any sort of trouble, your brother will pull him out of it. So before Falstaff is put away, we must convince your brother that the rogue is not worth the effort. Thus, the robbery, and his part in it." 

John gave Poins a hard look. Poins took another sip of his beer. 

"And how does this benefit thee?" said John. "What motive dost thou have for turning my brother away from his company in the stews?" 

"Patriotism?" Poins said with a shrug. "Loyalty to crown and country? Knowledge that the future of England herself is at stake?" 

The things he listed were more than enough to motivate John, but John was not so idealistic as to think these same causes would move lesser men to action. He said as much. Poins laughed a little. 

"How's this, then," he said. "Your brother, for all his faults, is a charismatic and intelligent young man, and I would gladly follow him where'er he led... but not while Falstaff is holding his reins." 

"And who will lead him when Falstaff is out of the way?" said John. 

Poins made no outward sign that he acknowledged the accusation. 

"His own conscience, I should hope," he said. "And our Lord in Heaven, naturally." 

John narrowed his eyes at Poins, but much like Hal, Poins seemed immune to the glare. 

"I wonder," said John slowly, "if Falstaff is the only corrupter and sodomite in my brother's company." 

Poins said nothing. 

Emboldened by the lack of retort, John lifted his chin a little as he continued, "While a prince may consort with thieves and worse, a king shall do no such thing. A wise man would remove himself from my brother's company before he is crowned, or risk being removed by force." 

Poins fixed John with a burning stare. 

"My lord believes he is telling me something I do not already know?" he said, his tone deceptively light. Only the impatient tapping of his forefinger against the rim of his cup suggested his discomfort. 

John stood. 

"Carry out the robbery," said John. "Know that if it should fail, it will be Edward Poins who swings for it." 

The corner of Poins' upper lip twitched, as though he were holding it back from curling into a sneer. Still, he nodded his assent. 

Satisfied that he had made his point, John turned on his heel and strode briskly from the table. The sooner he left the stench of Eastcheap behind him, the better.

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on [this meta](http://puppiestheblog.wordpress.com/2013/06/08/how-do-i-loathe-thee-let-me-count-the-ways-poins-v-falstaff-in-the-hollow-crown/) and [this TFLN](http://textsfromthedrunkencrown.tumblr.com/post/58423630518). Thanks to [AndrogynyZombie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/androgynyzombie) for fixing my grammar.


End file.
